As it is Now
by Bailadora
Summary: A series of one-shots detailing all the flirting, teasing, joking, playfulness of the BB partnership.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: While I am all for a Booth and Brennan relationship (I actually yell at the TV every time Booth misses an opportunity to sneak in a kiss or whatever) I think that the partnership they share is undeniably strong and that more fanfictions should be dedicated to that aspect of what they have going on. So, here's my solution. Be warned: there is no plot. Well, each chapter has a small one, but the chapters are in no way related. And some will be pretty short. Anyway, I think I've said enough. Oh, yeah. If you yell at the TV too, I'd love to hear from you.

The sun beat down on Temperance Brennan.

A bead of sweat escaped from her hairline and made its way down her forehead, across her nose, and over her lip. She could taste its saltiness in her mouth. The drop disappeared under her chin, but another one was already forming back under the red bandana she was wearing. She sighed and wiped her forehead with the back of one hand, though it was no use. She was slick with sweat all over and there was no way the day was going to cool down anytime soon.

She turned back to the pile of dirt in front of her. There was no doubt in her mind that she had made a mess. A huge one.

She reached down and picked a small, green weed and threw it into the yard behind her. She loved to garden, it helped to clear her head after a particularly long case, but this was getting ridiculous. The thermometer read eighty-six last time she had checked. That was at seven in the morning – three hours ago. It was much hotter now, and the branches of the trees in the front yard didn't quite make it to the place where she was working.

It had been a long time since she last attempted to garden, and she could tell that she was out of practice. There was a stack of tulip bulbs to one side of her, a huge pile of dirt on the other. She wanted to plant a few perennials to cut down on the amount of work that would have to be done next spring, but she couldn't remember how deep the bulbs had to be planted. Contemplating where or not to call Angela, she decided that the artist probably wouldn't know either.

She picked out a few more weeds and figured she could work on a few of the potted plants she had bought at a local garden store. She was just pulling a plant out of a pot when a shadow crossed her path. She looked up.

Booth stood behind her with a small smile on his lips. Temperance wasn't sure what he found so amusing: the fact that she had made a huge mess, or that she was drenched in sweat and caked in dirt. Most likely it was a combination of the two.

Temperance got to her feet and wiped a few strands of hair from her eyes. Booth still hadn't spoken and she wasn't going to be the first to say anything.

"Hi," he said at last.

"Hi." She held her back and stretched, sore from being bent over for so long.

"I just wanted to see how you were holding up," he said

Temperance didn't have to ask what he was talking about. Their last case had been a difficult one that involved one too many mutilated babies and a very guilty father. She hadn't taken it nearly as hard as Booth had, as he had a child of his own, but she still appreciated that he had come to check up on her.

"I'm fine," she assured him. They both smiled, but didn't say anything more.

"I didn't know you gardened," Booth said finally, changing the subject.

Temperance shaded her eyes with one hand. "I try."

"I can see that." He eyed the mess that lay at her feet.

When he didn't say anything more, she dropped back to her knees and picked up a trowel. Booth appeared at her side. "What are they?"

"What are what?" she asked in reply.

He gestured to the flowers.

"Um, flowers."

He looked exasperated. "I mean, what _kind _are they?"

"Oh." She smiled and pointed to a group of beautiful salmon-colored flowers. "Those are begonias. And the purple ones here are called magnolias." She paused to wipe her brow again. "That pink one over there is a dahlia."

A look of recognition crossed Booth's face. "Like the movie?"

"What?"

"Never mind."

She frowned at him before moving on to point out a few more plants, stopping to tell him which ones attracted butterflies or bees, though she used the scientific terminology for the insects. No longer squatting beside her, Booth had sat himself down on the grass next to her, their hips almost touching. Almost, but not quite.

"Which is your favorite?" he asked when she was finally finished.

"What?" She was surprised at the personal question.

"Bones, it's not a difficult question. Which flowers do you like the best?"

"Hmm." He was right. It wasn't a big deal. Why was she always so quick to hide herself? After a few moments thinking time, she answered the question. "I like lilies. White ones."

"Simple and elegant." Booth nodded. He picked up a small trowel and helped her to dig up some more weeds.

"Don't you think it's a little odd?" he asked after a struggle with a large rooted weed.

"What would that be?" She didn't look up from the yellow petunia she was putting in the ground.

"That you like to garden."

She set down her trowel and turned to him. "Why do you find it odd?"

He looked slightly nervous now. "It's just… you dig up dead bodies and then you come home and dig up plants. I'd be afraid to find something down here." He shuddered.

"Booth, average grave depth is between three and six feet. We're not going to find anything." She picked up a watering can and gave the petunia a large dousing. A little water splashed on to Booth's pants. Temperance didn't notice.

"I know that, Bones. I just meant that you dig for a living, and then you come here and do it some more. I will never understand you." And he would never understand why he always felt like he had to say things twice when he was around her.

They went back to pulling weeds in silence.

"It's a way for me to unwind," she said quietly.

Booth had already forgotten what he had said and was unsure as to what she was talking about.

"Sorry?"

"Gardening. It helps me relax."

"This helps you relax?" He indicated the large mountain of dirt with a wave of his trowel and accidentally splattered his partner with soil. She didn't make any move to brush it off, so a smudge of it remained on her cheek.

She nodded and squinted up at him. His stomach growled loudly.

"How 'bout we go get some lunch?" he suggested.

Temperance looked from him to the dirt. Her eyes told him that she would rather stay behind and get this cleaned up. Booth improvised.

"How 'bout I go get some lunch and bring it over here?"

She nodded. "That would be great."

While he was gone she thought up a list of ways to rope him into helping her out some more. She would never admit it to anyone, but she really did enjoy his company.


	2. Chapter 2

"Bones, that's disgusting!"

"No it's not."

"Yes, it is!"

Temperance shook her head. "It's just a spider."

"And it's crawling on you!"

Temperance shrugged. They were at the exhumation site, a cool place in the middle of a clearing surrounded by leafy trees. The body that she was unearthing looked as though it had been there a while and if the decomposition was any indication, it had been dead for at least thirty years. She was in no hurry whatsoever to get the body out.

Shifting her weight from her knees to her butt, Temperance studied the spider that was scurrying up and down the length of her arm. It was relatively small, about half an inch in diameter, light brown in color, and slightly hairy. Booth had nothing to be afraid of, and Temperance vocalized that.

"I'm not scared of it," he insisted, though the look on his face told her that he felt otherwise.

Grinning wickedly, she held out her arm to Booth. He jumped backwards.

"Bones! Don't do that!"

"I just did."

"Well don't."

"Fine." She retracted her arm and examined the spider again. Its eight glassy eyes stared back at her with a look of contempt. Or as much as contempt as a spider could muster. Temperance picked it up with her other hand and set it down in the grass beside the grave.

She stood and brushed her gloved hands together to get rid of the dirt. She could see Booth eyeing the place where she had set the small arachnid. "Squish it. I dare you."

He didn't squish it.

"I'm hungry," she told him.

"What? We're not done yet." He looked from her to the hole in the ground.

"Yeah, but I'm hungry." She headed back towards where she knew the SUV was parked. Booth jogged up behind her.

"Bones, where do you think you're going? You haven't finished yet, and the murderer is still out there somewhere." He stepped in front of her and continued walking backwards. He was ready to put his hands on her shoulders to stop her, but caught himself before he touched her. Smooth.

Temperance stopped abruptly, causing Booth to loose his balance. He grabbed her arms to keep himself upright. She looked up into his eyes with what she hoped was an innocent look on her face.

"The murderer isn't still out there because there was no murder. That was a suicide, and the body's been there for at least the last three decades." She broke free of his grip on her arms and continued the trek back to the car. Booth stood where he was for a moment before running to catch up.

"You could tell all of that from a half-unearthed body?"

Temperance let out a breath of frustration but did not stop. "There was a gun in his hand, Booth." She didn't have to see his face to know the look that was currently etched across it. "And a note in his pocket." This time she wanted to see his reaction. She turned to him, walking backwards herself.

"Bones, why didn't you tell me? That's evidence," he looked incredulous. She shrugged, reached into her pocket, pulled out an evidence bag, and tossed it to him. He caught it at the last second.

"They gave it to me." She was still walking backwards.

"Why would they give it–" He stopped before he insulted her.

"I don't know. Maybe I look more responsible." She gave him a smug little smile before tripping over a log and falling flat on her back. Booth rushed over to where she lay. She was sure her cheeks were as red as they could get.

"You okay?" He looked concerned, but a smile was tugging at his lips. She didn't answer, just struggled to stand. He grabbed her arm and easily pulled her to her feet. She didn't thank him, instead she walked towards the car.

They walked in a stony silence for a few moments before Booth spoke. "You have to admit, that was pretty funny." Temperance didn't agree.

"Spider!" she shrieked, her eyes wide with what she hoped looked like fear. It worked. Booth jumped about a foot into the air.

"Where?" He searched his clothes frantically, twisting around to see his back.

"Now that was funny," she laughed.

Booth glared at her, but soon he was laughing too. They emerged from the woods slightly out of breath and every time they looked at each other they burst into a fit of giggles. It was enough to make someone think they were a couple. But they weren't. There was no way Temperance could date someone who was afraid of spiders.

A/N: I was doing some landscaping and a spider crawled up my hand. ::involuntary shudder:: Eww. Anyway, is it just me, or do Booth and Tempe seem a little out of character in this chapter? Let me know your thoughts and I would love to hear any suggestions for later scenarios!


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey, Booth, let's try this. How 'bout you don't tick me off today." And with that, Temperance Brennan stormed out of her office and into the lab. Booth flinched as the door slammed closed behind her. He turned to Angela, who stood beside him with a grim smile on her face.

"What's eating her?" Booth asked with his palms upturned in a confused gesture.

Angela gave him a funny look. "Can you think of nothing?"

Booth thought for a moment and shook his head. Angela sighed.

"Nothing? You can't think of _anything_?" Angela probed. Again, Booth thought before answering. Had he done anything to make her especially angry lately? He didn't think so.

"I swear I didn't do anything."

"She's a women…" Angela hinted.

Booth watched his partner pull on a pair of latex gloves and bend over the examination table. Her hair fell forward around her face and she paused to push it back behind her ears. She prodded at the remains, not realizing how dangerously low-cut her blouse was. "Yeah, I've noticed."

"She's crabby…" Angela said, ignoring his comment.

Booth finally caught on. "No way. Not Bones."

Angela frowned at him. "So, being Bones makes her less of a woman?" She raised her eyebrows, indicating that he had to answer.

"No! If anything it makes her more–" he caught himself. "No, I mean, Bones is never really… I don't know…" He cast around for the right words.

"PMSish?" Angela supplied.

"Well, I wouldn't go as far as to say–"

"Sweetie, that's exactly what you wanted to say. And that's okay, because it's true." She patted him gently on the arm. They both turned back to the window to watch Brennan, who was now talking with Hodgins, a long bone cradled delicately in her hands. The two exchanged a few more words, Brennan threw her head back and laughed, and Hodgins left the lab.

"Why doesn't she bite his head off?" Booth exclaimed.

Angela gave him a look that clearly said she was sorry for him. "Honey, it doesn't work that way." She smiled sympathetically.

"Then how does it work?"

Frowning, Angela thought about this for a second, then shrugged. "That's a good question."

"What?"

She simply shrugged again.

"How can you not know? You're a woman, too."

"Booth, it's complicated and I really don't feel like explaining it right now. I have work to do." She left the office, leaving Booth all alone to spy on his moody partner. He had a feeling that Angela just didn't feel like giving away the secrets of woman nature, and he wasn't going to argue with her. He watched Brennan for a bit longer, then left the office as well.

XxXxX

Temperance Brennan was exhausted. Once again she was the only one left at the lab, having worked double overtime, and she wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up on the couch with a glass of wine. Unfortunately for her, she had at least an hour's worth of paperwork that needed to be finished by the next morning.

As soon as she entered her office she knew that something was out of place. Her eyes swept over the floor and bookshelves before coming to rest at an unfamiliar splash of color on her desk. She went over to investigate.

They were bones. Chocolate and wrapped in foil, the bones were supposed to look like a skeleton. There was only one person the treat could be from.

Smiling to herself, she unwrapped the chocolate and took a bite. Her night was beginning to look a little brighter.


	4. Chapter 4

"Where are you taking me?" Temperance asked her partner. She still had her hands over her eyes as Booth had instructed, and she could feel his fingers wrapped around her arm, guiding her along.

"You'll see." She could sense the grin that he was wearing just by the sound of his voice.

Fine. If he wasn't going to tell her, she would just have to figure it out herself.

The uneven ground beneath her feet was slippery and lumpy. The air damp with a taste she couldn't quite identify, though the sun warmed her bare shoulders. Booth had told her he had a surprise for her, that he would pick her up at home that morning. She was to wear comfortable clothing, and not knowing where she was being taken, she opted for a lilac tank top, khaki capris, and tennis shoes.

And wherever she was, it was loud. There was a crashing sort of noise, mixed in with the crying of birds and the whoosh of air. Temperance could hardly hear Booth over all the noise.

He had picked her up around nine that morning. After a quick cup of coffee, they were off. Booth was unwavering with his decision not to tell her where they were going. As he drove, they talked and listened to the radio, each fighting for their own station to be played. Finally after a half an hour Booth told her to cover her eyes. She refused, but after some persuading she gave in. They drove for a bit longer before parking. She had been tempted to peek out from behind her fingers but decided not to ruin the surprise. Booth led her out of the car and over a hill before they reached where they were now walking.

"Step down," he said into her ear, placing a hand on the small of her back.

Temperance did as he told, but very carefully. She didn't want to trip. Her foot found the ground, which wasn't nearly as firm as what she had previously been standing on. Her shoes made hollow slaps against the ground.

"Where are we?"

Booth didn't answer. He still had one hand on her back and one on her arm. They took a few more strides before he spoke. "Okay, you can look now." She could feel his excitement.

Temperance lowered her hands from her face and blinked against the sudden light. Her eyes widened in amazement.

They were standing on a large pier, boats tied up in their own little spaces all along both sides. The huge expanse of dark water told her that they were at the ocean. She inhaled deeply. The unidentifiable scent was from the salty seawater. The sun glinted off the surface of the waves, casting sparkles across the water. Temperance smiled.

"It's beautiful." She turned to her partner. Sure enough, he had a huge grin on his face and his eyes twinkled with a level enthusiasm she rarely saw.

"I've been wanting to share this with you for awhile." He smiled down at her.

She returned his smile. "Thanks."

"What, for this? No way. I have so much more to show you." With that, he removed his hand from her arm, leaving the one on her back, and gestured to one of the boats tied along the dock. "That's for us."

It was gleaming black and came to a sharp point in the front. The engine in the back was huge. Even though she knew nothing about boats, Temperance could tell that this one was fast. And that it belonged to the FBI. She looked a question at him.

"Well it's ours for the day." He scratched his head with his free hand.

"And they know you have it?"

He gave her a half nod. Temperance decided to let it go, not wanting to wreck what Booth had obviously worked so hard to create.

"Let's go." Temperance allowed herself to be grabbed by the wrist and led to the speedboat. Booth was evidently very excited.

They stopped at the edge of the pier and Temperance peered down into the boat. The inside looked just as impressive as the outside. She was just trying to figure out how to lower herself down into it, when Booth came up behind her and grabbed her around the waist.

"Booth!" she squealed.

He dropped her into the boat, which rocked under her feet. She plopped down into a seat, folded her arms across her chest, and glared at Booth as he untied all the lines connecting the boat to the pier. He looked up at her before jumping in himself.

"What?" He looked so innocent that she couldn't help but smile.

He smiled back and slid in beside her. "You're gonna have to go over there." He pointed to the other seat, the one on the left side.

"Why?" she began, then noticed the steering wheel in front of her. "Oh. Can't I drive?" she teased. Booth just pushed her over. He turned the key, pressed a series of numbers on the keypad next to the wheel, and the propeller whirled to life. He shoved off from the pier and threw the boat into reverse. They backed out of the slip and into the main part of the marina before heading forward again. Booth drove slowly, obeying the signs that prohibited a wake.

Neither spoke as they exited the bay. When the boat finally cleared the last of the buoys, Booth turned to her.

"Ready?"

She was.

Booth sped up. The bow of the boat rose into the air, then fell back down.

It was like they were flying. The wind whipped up Temperance's hair and scattered it around her face. Her eyes began to water. She let out a laugh.

Somehow, Booth heard her. He looked over, one hand resting on the steering wheel, the other on his lap. He revealed a row of sparkling white teeth and let out a laugh of his own.

They traveled parallel to shore, which was about a hundred yards away. Temperance turned her head to look out behind them. Water was spraying up in a huge arc behind them. After a few miles, Booth angled out away from shore. When civilization was no longer visible he stopped.

The boat drifted for awhile before Temperance asked the question she knew Booth was dying to hear. "So, what are we doing out here?"

"You're gonna love this." He rubbed his hands together, stood, and made his way to the back of the boat to drop in an anchor. "This was my all time favorite thing to do when I was young." He bent down and lifted the lid of a compartment in the floor. He revealed a fishing pole and handed it to Temperance.

She raised her eyebrows. "Fishing?"

He nodded enthusiastically and grabbed a pole for himself. "I realize that this isn't exactly an ideal fishing boat, but I figured you would enjoy the ride out here." He was right about that.

"Yes, but _fishing_?"

He didn't seem to notice her reluctance. Instead, he grabbed his tackle box out of a different compartment, opened it, and took the pole back from Temperance. As he baited it, he told her stories of his earlier fishing days, the most vivid being the time he caught a small shark and was pulled over board. He handed the pole back to her.

"Cast it out in that direction." He pointed to the side of the boat opposite the shore, then turned back to get his own pole ready.

Temperance had never been fishing before. She hadn't been interested when her father was around, and after he left, she had no chance to go. She had the general idea of what to do, having seen people do it before, but she was no pro.

She examined the reel on the pole, trying to find how to let out more line. She flipped back a small lever and the bait dropped into the water. Reeling in the line, nothing happened. It seemed to be locked. She tried reeling it the other way. The end of the line emerged from the water.

The bait below the bobber caught her eye. It was bright purple and had an orange tail. There was no way anything that colorful came from nature. She grabbed the line and pulled it towards her to get a better look at the bait.

It was a worm. Or at least, it was trying to _look_ like a worm. It reminded her of the gummy worms she sometimes saw on the shelves at the gas station, though this one was definitely inedible.

"Booth," she called over to him. He looked up from attaching a fake worm onto his own pole. "What is this?" She held up the fishing line above the worm.

"Bait." He looked as confused as she felt.

"Yes, but it's plastic." The worm flipped around in the wind.

"And?" He tied a knot, but didn't take his eyes from her.

"What fish is going to eat a plastic worm?"

He put his pole over one shoulder and flicked it outwards. The end of the line plopped in the water twenty feet away. "Lots of fish do."

"But why?"

"Because it's food."

"It's not though." She pointed to the purple worm that was dangling helplessly from a shining hook.

"Bones," he shook his head as if he could think of nothing else to say.

"Would you chase after a plastic chicken leg?" she asked, exasperated.

"If it looked real enough." He flicked the pole and reeled the line in a bit.

"It doesn't smell real," she pointed out.

"What does it smell like?" He was smiling again.

She wrinkled up her nose, not wanting to smell the fake worm, but not wanting to back down either. "Plastic."

"Can fish even smell?"

Temperance shrugged. She followed Booth's lead and cast her line. The bobber landed not five feet from the boat.

"At least it looks real."

"It doesn't! What worm is purple with an orange–"

"Bones, just trust me."

A half an hour later, "So I was wrong."

Temperance nodded. Neither had caught a fish. Neither had even had a single bite. She slumped back into her seat again. Her mind was far from the fishing boat; instead she was silently working on her novel.

"Bones, where's your bobber?" Booth sounded panicked.

"What?" she asked lazily.

He rushed over to the side of the boat. "There!" He pointed down towards where her line hit the water. Her bobber was about a foot under the water.

The end of her pole twitched violently.

"Bones! Set the hook!"

"What?" She had leapt to her feet and was hanging on to the pole with all the strength she could muster. Booth mimed flicking the pole in an upward direction.

Temperance flicked her pole.

"Good, now reel it in!" Booth was beside himself with excitement.

Temperance could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins as she struggled to turn the reel. Her heart pounded and she broke out in a sweat. Vaguely, she could hear Booth cheering her on, but she was concentrating on the fish that was currently attached to the hook on the end of her line.

The tip of her pole was arched almost in half as she reeled in the fish. Finally it jumped up out of the water. Temperance turned the reel a few more times, and Booth reached over to grab the line. He unhooked the fish and brought it into the boat.

"Look at the size of this thing!"

Temperance looked, breathing hard. She was definitely awake now.

Booth held the fish up to his face to look it in the eye. It flopped to the floor. He cursed and snatched it up again. Holding it up, he sighed.

"What?" she asked, worried that she had hurt it in some way.

"It's not quite big enough." He gave her a sympathetic look.

She shrugged. "It's okay."

Booth extended the fish out to her. "To you want to put it back in the water?"

Temperance gazed at it and decided to do it. She nodded.

Booth kept his hands on the fish as she wrapped her fingers around it. Together they released it into the water.

Temperance collapsed backwards onto the floor of the boat, exhausted. Booth fell back with her, the end of the line in his hand.

"The worm is gone." He grinned.

A/N: I live in Wisconsin, so the closest I've ever come to ocean fishing is on Lake Winnebago. Please review!


	5. Chapter 5

Temperance barely heard the knock on her door over the music she was listening to.

"Come on in," she called from the kitchen. She knew who it was; there was no reason to ask.

Booth let himself in. "Bones?"

"In here!"

He followed her voice to the kitchen. She was mixing something chocolately brown in a large bowl and wore black sweatpants, a white tank top, and blue bandana around her hair, though a few strands had managed to escape.

"Whatcha doing, Bo–" He stopped when he heard what she was listening to.

"Just the Girl?"

She didn't look up from the bowl. "Yes. By The Click Five."

"So, Bones listens to pop." Booth moved over to the counter and sat down on a stool. He took a deep breath, breathing in a mixture of chocolate and peanut butter. "Mmm…"

"I don't know what you mean, but sure." She put the bowl in the microwave.

Booth hummed along with a few lines of the song and was sure that he could hear Temperance singing along as well.

'_Cause she's bittersweet,_

_She knocks me off of my feet._

_And I can't help myself, _

_I don't want anyone else._

_She's a mystery,_

_She's too much for me._

_But I keep coming back for more_

_She's just the girl I'm looking for.'_

The microwave beeped and their duet was lost.

When Temperance set the bowl back down on the counter the fragrance was even stronger. "Bones, what are you making?" He closed his eyes and lost himself in the aroma.

"And you call yourself an FBI agent." She poured the mixture over a bowl of Chex and stirred it together. Booth opened his eyes and looked around. An opened bag of powdered sugar lay beside a box of cereal, a bag of chocolate chips, and a jar of peanut butter.

Puppy Chow. He grinned sheepishly. "Oh." While Temperance was dumping the now-chocolate cereal into a giant baggie, Booth snatched up the chocolate chips and began to eat them. The half-filled bag was emptied almost instantly.

The song ended and another one began. Once again, Booth was amazed at what she was listening to. 'Do You Want To' by Franz Ferdinand bounced around the room. "Bones?"

"Yes?" She ripped open a blue bag. An atomic bomb of powdered sugar puffed into her face.

"What are you listening to?"

She left the kitchen and went over to the sound system, searching for a CD case. When she found it she tossed it to him with one hand, licking chocolate off the fingers of the other. Booth looked down at the case in surprise.

"Now 20?"

Deciding not to point out that, yes, he was in fact holding a Now 20 CD case in his hands, she nodded.

Booth frowned, then smiled uncertainly and rejoined his partner in the kitchen. Temperance had dumped the powdered sugar and chocolate together and was now shaking the bag in time with the music. He couldn't help but watch. This was a different Bones than who he saw at work. This Bones was fun and carefree, not strict and uptight. He wanted to enjoy her while he could.

After she was finished mixing everything together, Temperance set the bag of Puppy Chow down between the two of them. Booth shoved his hand right in and grabbed a handful of the powdery dessert.

He threw one small piece up into the air and caught it in his open mouth. A rain of powder splattered on his checks. Temperance raised her eyebrows at his childishness.

He threw up another, but overshot it. It landed on the floor behind him. He looked up guiltily. She crossed her arms over her chest and he turned to pick it up. As he grabbed it off the floor, the song changed again. 'Beverly Hills.'

He danced in his seat and threw another piece of Puppy Chow into the air. This time he caught it. He looked over to see that Temperance had yet to eat any from the small mound in front of her. Instead she was watching him with a growing smile on his face.

"What?" he asked.

She just shook her head.

"I can catch anything," he bragged, guessing that that was why she was watching.

"Oh really?"

He nodded.

She fingered one of the pieces in her hand. "Throw it," coaxed Booth.

"I don't know…" She didn't want to get the floor dirty.

She didn't have to say that out loud for Booth to know that was what she was worried about. "I already got the floor dirty."

He was right. She picked the piece up and took aim. Booth opened his mouth wide, but Temperance could see that he was still watching her. She sent the Puppy Chow in his direction. He moved a little to the left, almost fell off his chair, but managed to catch it. He chewed and swallowed while Temperance clapped.

She threw a few more before Booth offered to toss one to her.

She looked hesitant.

"Come on. Just one."

Booth made it look so easy. "Okay."

Booth grabbed a piece and arced it towards her. It hit her on the nose. She grabbed it off the floor, blew it off, and stuck it in her mouth.

"One more?"

She shook her head. Booth didn't push it.

The song changed again. 'Sugar, We're Goin Down.'

"Let's dance." He stood.

"Booth…"

"You know you want to." He swayed in place.

Fall Out Boy broke into the chorus. "Fine."

Booth grabbed his partner's hand and dragged her out to the middle of the living room. She still looked reluctant to dance, so Booth showed her a few of his most ridiculous moves. She laughed and allowed him to grab her hands to spin her around. They finished out the song, and another slower one came on. 'You and Me,' by Lifehouse.

Temperance stopped dancing at the sudden change of beat. Booth held out his arms to her. She seemed uncertain as to what to do.

"It's just a dance." He stepped closer.

"I know, but–"

"It doesn't mean anything. We don't have to if you don't want to." He started back towards the kitchen. She grabbed his wrist.

"It's not that. I just don't really know… how." She wouldn't meet his gaze.

"Bones, what am I going to do with you?" He placed his hands on her waist.

"What are you–"

"Please don't give me a knee to the groin." She didn't and stopped squirming in his arms. "Put your hands on my shoulders." She did as he instructed. "See, it's not that hard." They moved in time with the music, standing about a foot away from each other. Booth took a small step closer. Temperance did too.

When the song ended they broke apart and headed back to the kitchen. "This is fun," Booth said, shoveling another handful of Puppy Chow into his mouth.

Temperance agreed.

"I wish we could do this more often," Booth probed.

"Well, I seem to remember that I have a fish in the fridge that I have no idea how to cook."

"Hungry for fish?" he asked.

She nodded and headed for the refrigerator, walking with the beat of the music.

A/N: So I was making Puppy Chow and listening to Now 20 and I thought to myself: what would Booth do? And then this came to mind. Sorry if they're a little out of character, I just wanted them to have a good time. Please review! I'd love to try out any scenario ideas that you have, you just have to let me know what they are!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Yes, I know it's been awhile. Sorry.

"It really is beautiful, isn't it?"

Booth was surprised by his partner's words. He'd practically had to drag her onto the Ferris wheel, and all during the ride she'd been quiet. Now they were stuck at the top, the ride over, waiting for the other passengers to get off.

He nodded. "It is."

The day had been hot, but like all late-spring nights there was nip in the air and Temperance wore Booth's sweater draped over her shoulders. She hadn't wanted that either, but Booth could be very persistent. After all, how else would she have ended up on a Ferris wheel wearing a man's sweater? And on a weeknight no less.

Booth eyed the ground below them. The night was dark, the type of blackness that you worry you might have to claw your way through just to get to the other side, but lights from other rides still glittered and he could see vague outlines of people holding cotton candy and corndogs. Even up here he could smell the greasy, fried yumminess from the grills.

Suddenly worried by the thick darkness, he quickly looked over to make sure Temperance was still beside him. She smiled and pointed out a few small fireworks going off in someone's driveway a couple blocks away. Booth was suddenly superbly pleased with himself for suggesting they spend Memorial Day together. Sure, finding this small-town fair had taken a ton of Googling during work hours and the driven had been plenty long with gas prices so high, but this was definitely worth it.

He was just about to ask her when the last time she went to a fair was when the Ferris wheel lurched backwards.

Temperance's hand shot out and grabbed his. She held on tightly, her nails digging into his skin and leaving angry red crescent-shaped marks for him to find later.

"Geez, Bones. Jumpy much?"

Forcing out a nervous laugh, she released his hand. Booth flexed his fingers, reassuring himself that none were broken. With a sideways glance at his partner, he wondered if she was afraid of heights.

His throbbing fingers egging him on, Booth began to swing his legs back and forth. The seat creaked ominously.

"Booth, stop," Temperance said.

He pumped his legs harder and the seat began to rock. Temperance clutched the armrest.

"Booth." Her voice carried a lilt of fear. If he hadn't known her as well as he did he wouldn't have heard it.

He stopped and watched her. Slowly she relaxed and loosened her grip on the armrest. She met his eye and stared steadily back. He cocked an eyebrow and even the nearly tangible darkness couldn't mask the flush creeping up her cheeks. Her gaze faltered and she found herself examining her fingers, which were suddenly very interesting.

"Bones," he whispered softly.

She looked up. It was one of those moments where any normal man would have kissed any normal woman. But of course, though he was a normal man, she was not a normal woman.

When finally their feet were firmly planted on the ground, Booth's arm snaked around Temperance, his hand resting on the small of her back. He pulled her closer and for once she didn't resist.

"I'm hungry," she announced after Booth tried to win her a stuffed animal at several different carnival games. It was only when she found an anthropological reason for him to want to win her something—an explanation in which the words 'male' and 'dominance' were used many times in rapid succession—did he give up.

He soon found that she wasn't lying when she said she was hungry. She was like a bear going into hibernation or a linebacker after a football game. He couldn't decide which was hungrier but whichever was described his partner perfectly.

They sat at a picnic table, a feast spread out in front of Temperance. She'd already made her way through a limp hamburger so greasy that it actually slipped out of her hands and onto the table not once but twice. The fries that came with the burger were also gone and she was now gnawing on a grilled ear of corn. Booth sipped his beer quietly, watching her carefully. He'd bet her that she couldn't finish all the food she'd bought; he had his eye on the funnel cake she was saving for dessert. The combination of fat and powder sugar was soaking the paper plate it sat on, but the possibility of a heart attack couldn't keep him from a funnel cake, especially one with a four inch mountain of powder sugar on top.

"Don't even think about it," Temperance warned, her lips moist with butter from the corn.

Booth rolled his eyes and went off in search of another beer. When he returned she was gingerly picking her dessert apart with the same delicate fingers that had nearly ripped his hand off earlier. A red cherry he hadn't even seen under all the sugar rested on the side of her plate.

"You're not gonna eat that?" he asked, scandalized.

She shook her head, white powder sticking to the butter on her lips.

Booth snatched up the candied cherry and popped it into his mouth. "Mmm…"

Temperance looked up and snorted at the look of satisfaction on his face, sending powder sugar everywhere. Booth's black shirt was caught in the line of fire.

When the funnel cake was gone, Temperance sighed and sat back. "I win."

"Win what?"

"The bet."

Booth groaned. "We never even agreed on terms."

Temperance thought this through. "If you win, I'll make you dinner. If I win, I get to drive home." She quickly grabbed his hand off the table and shook it.

"It doesn't work like that," he laughed, finishing his beer.

Temperance crossed her arms defiantly over her chest.

"Okay, fine," Booth caved. "But you didn't win."

"Yes, I did."

"Nope."

"Yes."

Booth leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his face inches from hers. "No. You didn't."

She glanced around, searching for some forgotten scrap of food to stuff into her mouth.

"I ate the cherry."

Temperance opened her mouth to speak and closed it right away.

Booth smirked. He knew she'd only eaten as much as she had to prove him wrong and could almost see the gears in her head grinding to figure out a way to get around this little dilemma.

"How 'bout this," he held out the keys to her. "You drive tonight. Tomorrow I come over and you make some of that mac for me."

She snatched the keys before he had to chance to think twice.

"Well, let's go then," he said, standing up.

After all, he still had a stuffed animal to win.

A/N: Isn't it great to have someone around to eat unwanted cherries? :D


	7. Chapter 7

Booth watched incredulously as the door swung shut in his face. Though the little female stick figure on it didn't have a face, it seemed entirely too happy to him.

As realization of what had just happened finally dawned on him, he took a few steps away from the door and stood with his back to the wall, trying not to draw attention to himself and the thing he held in his hand.

He looked down at it and cringed.

There was a potted tree next to the door. Booth shuffled slowly over to it and sneakily positioned himself beside it so the branches could hide him. The meager leaves didn't offer much protection and a small boy clutching his frazzled-looking mother's leg pointed at him and tugged the hem of his mom's skirt. Booth smiled and waved. The woman's brow furrowed when she saw him and she picked up her little boy and hurried off, whispering in his ear.

Booth groaned, gaining more curious stares.

_Where is she?_ he thought, shifting his weight from foot to foot in a nervous jig. _If she doesn't hurry up in there we're gonna miss our flight._

Since the tree wasn't stopping anyone from staring, Booth moved out from behind it, trying not to catch the attention of any security guards. Who knew what a man in uniform would do to him if they saw him holding this?

He looked around for a place to hide it. He thought about putting it behind the tree, but decided someone would probably try to steal it. Then, of course, Bones would kill him, and honest-to-god he wasn't ready to die yet.

"I have to use the restroom," she'd said. He'd had no idea it would lead to this.

He could take it into the men's bathroom to avoid all the weird looks he was getting out here. But if there was a—gasp—man in there, he would see the thing, too.

Booth was just envisioning knocking such a man out with a single fist to the chin when his partner emerged from the bathroom.

"What the hell took you so long?" Booth rounded on her.

"That only took two minutes," she answered calmly, glancing at her watch. "Can I have my purse back? We really need to get moving."

Booth quickly thrust the bag back into her arms, eternally gratefully to be rid of it.

"Thanks."

"Anytime," Booth choked out, and he and Temperance and her giant, red leather purse were swept back into the throng of travelers as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened at all.


	8. Chapter 8

Booth was bored.

Incredibly bored. Outstandingly bored. Apocalyptically bored.

_Ooh, that was a good one_, he thought.

Having run out of adjectives to describe just how bored he was, he brainstormed a list of things to do.

_1. Do the laundry._

_2. Finish paperwork for Bones_

_3. Dust the living room._

Boring. Boring. Boring.

_Maybe I'll just call Bones and bug her._

Nah. He wouldn't even bother to call.

XxXxX

"Let's go swimming."

"Booth, I'm busy. I already told you that."

She had told him. Three times. He'd counted.

"I know," he whined. "But I'm bored." He knew he sounded like Parker but he didn't care. To him there was nothing worse than being bored, except maybe the Steelers not making the playoffs. And since they were definitely having a playoff-worthy season, being bored was on the top of his Worst Things Ever List.

"So you expect me to just drop everything I'm doing to entertain you?"

"When I got here you were taking a nap!" Booth exclaimed.

"Because I was tired," Temperance pointed out. She was still sitting on the couch right where she'd been when he'd let himself in, a fleece blanket covering her legs despite the staggering summer heat outside. Her air conditioning must have been running non-stop to keep the apartment this cold. It was like a meat locker in here. He wrinkled his nose at the thought. She was spending so much time at the lab that her home was beginning to turn into one. If she wasn't such a stickler for protocol, he wouldn't have been surprised to find a body or two stashed in a closet somewhere.

He had to get her out of here. He shivered. _He_ had to get out of here.

"Let's go see a movie."

"Nothing good playing."

Like she would know. Booth had recently seen a commercial for a film with lots of explosions that he would gladly fork over eight dollars to see.

"Biking?"

She shook her head, settling back into the couch and tucking the blanket around her legs. "I went jogging at six this morning."

"Farmer's market?"

"Nope." She closed her eyes.

"Art museum?" It was better than nothing he supposed.

"No thanks."

"Fine," he said huffily. "I'll just go." He turned to leave and was reaching for the doorknob when his stomach growled loudly.

XxXxX

They walked side by side, licking their ice cream cones and trying to stay out of the way of the joggers' way.

It had taken some convincing, but with a few more grumbles of his stomach and the promise of Rocky Road, he had finally talked her into walking to the park with him. He knew a great ice cream vendor who always topped Parker's cones with extra sprinkles.

"So why did come out here jogging at six this morning?" Booth asked after Temperance told him she'd run by the ice cream stand earlier that day.

They stepped out of the way of a few runners before she answered.

"Because of that," she said, gesturing at the joggers' retreating backs. "There's some sort of fundraising marathon going on today."

"You're dripping," he said, watching as some ice cream attempted to escape from Temperance's cone. She caught the dribble between her lips before it could get too far. Booth looked on in fascination.

A few more people jogged past them. _Some people just should not wear Spandex._

"…really is peaceful out here that early," Temperance was saying. Booth turned his attention back to her.

"I'm sure it is."

She looked up at him and nodded. He burst out laughing.

"What?" she asked, frantically looking around.

"You've got ice cream on your forehead."

"I do not," she said indignantly.

"Yes. You do." He shoved the rest of his cone into his mouth with sticky fingers.

"How would it get all the way up there?" she retorted.

Booth shrugged lazily.

"I don't believe you."

"Fine. Walk around with ice cream on your face. Doesn't bother me any."

She looked at him uncertainly, then finished off the rest of her own cone.

They continued walking, the thick heat slowing their pace to a sluggish amble. Booth licked off his fingers and placed one hand on the small of her back. She didn't protest and they meandered through the park that way, looking very much like a couple in love spending a hot, lazy, summer afternoon together.

Children were throwing bits of bread into the algae-green water of a pond and giggling as the ducks greedily snapped up the food. Booth and Temperance took a break to watch. A Frisbee landed near Booth's feet and he bent to pick up it. After he had tossed it back to the little boy to whom it belonged, he glanced down at his partner, who was staring up at him with doe eyes.

"Do I really have ice cream on my forehead?"

His gentle smile broke into a grin.

"Booth!" She gave him a little shove.

He stumbled a little, just to make her feel like she could push him around, then pulled her into a hug. She started up at him, her gray eyes clear and trusting. With one finger he rearranged her bangs on her forehead, revealing a large splotch of dried ice cream. "Yes," he murmured. "You do." He wiped it away with his thumb, firmly to make sure it was completely gone. Then he pressed a quick kiss to the spot where it had been. Her eyes widened at the suddenness of it all, but he was already guiding her away, explaining the plot behind the movie with all the explosions and promising her that she'd like it for sure.


End file.
